


Powerverse: Pretermit  [Mr and Mrs Smith]

by akire_yta



Category: Mr. and Mrs. Smith (2005), powergeneration
Genre: F/M, powergeneration - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:49:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>eek!</p><p>Hey <span class="ljuser i-ljuser"></span><a href="http://hannahrorlove.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://hannahrorlove.livejournal.com/"><b>hannahrorlove</b></a> - you know we were talking about Mr and Mrs Smith?</p><p>Well, bunny bit HARD.  This is just a tinker that came to me over lunch and out of that conversation.  Literally ten minutes and no proofread</p>
            </blockquote>





	Powerverse: Pretermit  [Mr and Mrs Smith]

People could be surprisingly dense when it suited them. John was just one case in point – so worried about keeping his secret that he never saw mine. Well, the same could be said of me. But my girls never picked up on the fact that no-one should have been capable of doing what I did, either, and they had no such excuse.

There was a reason I kept my special toys at home. The last thing I needed was for one of my agents to take a leap off a penthouse balcony with my Armani bag and turn themselves into a smear on the pavement when the forces ripped their normal arm out of its normal sockets.

I sometimes wondered if Father did know. After all, he did find me and raise me and train me. Just because he controlled us all at arms length didn’t mean that he never took an interest. Perhaps that’s why he chose me, out of all the girls.

He knew I was going to be special.

It worries me, more than I’d care to admit, that he might know. It hangs over my head – our heads, now – like the sword of Damocles. There are still a lot of places it is not a good idea to be identified as an unregistered Power. At best, they’d throw us onto the next plane back to the States. At worst…

Well, we did get lucky that first time in South America. I wouldn’t like to count on luck again.

“Hey.”

I look away from the tiny porthole. My husband gives me a little grin of inquiry as he gently squeezes my hand. Getting caught would be even worse for John. I can rein back my responses, mask my abilities, play pretend. But if they cut John, he would heal, no matter what. That would be more than enough proof in some places for a summary execution. John could recover from a lot of things. A bullet to the head wasn’t one of them.

“You okay?”

I give him a false-bright smile. “Fine. You?”

“Fine.” So that’s the way we’re going to play it.

He was right. We were going to have to redo every conversation we’d ever had in six years of marriage. The work stuff was easy to talk about – who killed who where and how.

But I had never spoken to anyone before about how I could bench press over three times my body weight. How I could leap further and run faster than most athletes. How I could see in the dark and smell a mark coming from a block away. I didn’t even know if I had the words.

John squeezed my hand again. I smiled.

Perhaps words wouldn’t be needed after all.


End file.
